And the captain took the candle, which, now burned down to the paper, threw a splendid light over the staircase.

D'Harmental had not forgotten that Madame de Maine waited with anxiety for the result of the interview. He did not trouble himself, therefore, about what had become of La Fillon, whom he did not see on leaving; and having gone down the Rue des Feuillons, he pa.s.sed along the Champs-Elysees, which, without being altogether deserted, was nevertheless almost solitary. Having arrived at the stone, he noticed a carriage standing on the opposite side of the road, while two men were walking at a little distance off in the cross-road. He approached the carriage; a woman, seeing him, put her head impatiently out of the window. The chevalier recognized Madame de Maine; Malezieux and Valef were with her. As to the walkers, who, seeing D'Harmental, approached the vehicle, it is needless to say that they were Brigaud and Pompadour.

The chevalier, without naming Roquefinette, or enlarging on the character of the ill.u.s.trious captain, told them in a few words what had pa.s.sed. This recital was welcomed by a general exclamation of joy. The d.u.c.h.ess gave D'Harmental her hand to kiss; the men pressed his. It was agreed that the next day at two o'clock the d.u.c.h.ess, Pompadour, Laval, Valef, Malezieux, and Brigaud, should meet at No. 15, Faubourg Saint Antoine, a house occupied by D'Avranches' mother, and that they should there await the event.

The result was to be announced to them by D'Avranches himself, who, at three o'clock, should be at the Barriere du Trone with two horses, one for himself, the other for the chevalier. He was to follow D'Harmental at a distance, and return to announce what had pa.s.sed. Five other horses, saddled and bridled, were to be ready in the stables of the house in the Faubourg Saint Antoine, so that the conspirators might fly at once in case of the chevalier's failure.

These plans settled, the d.u.c.h.ess forced the chevalier to seat himself beside her. The d.u.c.h.ess wished to drive him home, but he told her that the appearance of a carriage at Madame Denis's door would produce too much sensation, and that, flattering as it would be to him, it would be too dangerous for all. In consequence, the d.u.c.h.ess set D'Harmental down in the Place des Victoires, after repeatedly expressing her grat.i.tude for his devotion. It was ten o'clock in the evening. D'Harmental had scarcely seen Bathilde during the day; he wished to see her again; he was sure to find her at her window, but that was not sufficient, for what he had to say was too serious to be thus spoken from one side to the other of the street.

He was thinking under what pretext he could present himself at such a late hour, when he thought he saw a woman at the door of her house. He advanced and recognized Nanette, who was there by Bathilde's order. The poor girl was dreadfully uneasy, Buvat not having returned. All the evening she had remained at the window to watch for D'Harmental, but had not seen him. It seemed to Bathilde that there must be some connection between Buvat's strange disappearance and the melancholy which she had remarked the day before in D'Harmental's face. Nanette was waiting at the door for Buvat and D'Harmental; she now waited for Buvat, and D'Harmental went up to Bathilde.

Bathilde had heard and recognized his step, and ran to open the door. At the first glance she noticed the pensive expression of his face.

"Oh! mon Dieu, Raoul!" she exclaimed, "has anything happened to you?"

"Bathilde," said D'Harmental, with a melancholy smile, "you have often told me that there is in me something mysterious which frightens you."

"Yes," cried Bathilde; "it is the only torment of my life; my only fear for the future."

"And you are right; for before I knew you, Bathilde, I had abandoned a part of my free-will; this portion of myself no longer belongs to me, but submits to a supreme law, and to unforeseen events. It is a black point in a clear sky. According to the way the wind blows, it may disappear as a vapor or increase into a storm. The hand which holds and guides mine may lead me to the highest favor or to the most complete disgrace. Tell me, Bathilde, are you disposed to share my good and evil fortune; the calm and the tempest?"

"Everything with you, Raoul."

"Think of what you are undertaking, Bathilde. It may be a happy and a brilliant life which is reserved for you; it may be exile; it may be captivity; it may be that you will be a widow before you are a wife."

Bathilde turned so pale that Raoul thought she would fall; but she quickly regained her self-command, and, holding out her hand to D'Harmental--

"Raoul," said she, "have I not already told you that I love you; that I never have and never can love any other? It seems to me that all these promises you ask are included in those words; but since you wish them renewed, I do so. Your life shall be my life, and your death my death; both are in the hands of G.o.d."

"And I, Bathilde," said D'Harmental, leading her before the crucifix, "I swear that from this moment you are my wife before G.o.d and before men; and since the events which may dispose of my life leave me nothing but my love to offer to you, that love is yours--profound, unalterable, eternal;" and the young people exchanged their first kiss with the renewal of their vows.

When D'Harmental left Bathilde, Buvat had not returned.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

DAVID AND GOLIATH.

Toward ten o'clock in the morning the Abbe Brigaud entered D'Harmental's room; he brought him 20,000 francs, partly in gold, partly in Spanish paper. The d.u.c.h.ess had pa.s.sed the night at the Comtesse de Chavigny's, in the Rue du Mail. The plans of the preceding day were in no degree changed, and they had ascertained that the regent would pay his accustomed visit to Ch.e.l.les. At ten o'clock Brigaud and D'Harmental went down, Brigaud to join Pompadour and Valef on the Boulevard du Temple, and D'Harmental to visit Bathilde.

Uneasiness was at its height in the little household; Buvat was still absent, and it was easy to see by Bathilde's eyes that she had had but little sleep. As soon as she saw D'Harmental, she understood that some expedition was preparing. D'Harmental again wore that dark costume in which she had never seen him but on that evening when, on returning, he had thrown his mantle on a chair, and displayed to her sight the pistols in his belt. Moreover, she saw by his spurs that he expected to ride during the day. All these things would have appeared insignificant at any other time, but, after the nocturnal betrothal we have described, they took a new and grave importance. Bathilde tried at first to make the chevalier speak, but he told her that the secret she asked did not belong to himself, and she desisted. An hour after, Nanette appeared, with a distressed face. She came from the library; Buvat had not been there, and no one had heard anything of him.

Bathilde could contain herself no longer; she fell into Raoul's arms, and burst into tears. Then Raoul confessed to her his fears, and that the papers which the pretended Prince de Listhnay had given Buvat to copy were politically important, by which he might have been compromised and arrested, but had nothing to fear, and that the pa.s.sive part which he had played in this affair did not endanger him in the least.

Bathilde, having feared some much greater misfortune, eagerly seized on this idea. She did not confess to herself that the greater part of her uneasiness was not for Buvat, and that all the tears she shed were not for the absent.

When D'Harmental was near Bathilde, time appeared to fly; he was astonished when he found that he had been with her an hour and a half, and remembering that at two o'clock he had to arrange his new treaty with Roquefinette, he rose to go. Bathilde turned pale. D'Harmental, to rea.s.sure her, promised to come to her again after the departure of the person he expected.

The chevalier had only been a few minutes at his window when he saw Roquefinette appear at the corner of the Rue Montmartre. He was mounted on a dapple-gray horse, both swift and strong, and evidently chosen by a connoisseur. He came along leisurely, like a man to whom it is equally indifferent whether he is seen or not. On arriving at the door he dismounted, fastened up his horse, and ascended the stairs. As on the day before, his face was grave and pensive, his compressed lips indicated some fixed determination, and D'Harmental received him with a smile, which met with no answer on the captain's face. D'Harmental at a glance took in all these different signs.

"Well, captain," said he, "I see that you are still punctuality itself."

"It is a military habit, chevalier, and is not astonishing in an old soldier."

"I did not doubt you, but you might not have been able to meet your men."

"I told you I knew where to find them."

"And where are they?"

"In the horse-market at the Porte Saint Martin."

"Are you not afraid they will be noticed?"

"How should twelve or fifteen men dressed as peasants be noticed among three hundred other peasants, buying and selling horses? It is like a needle in a bottle of hay, which none but myself can find."

"But how can these men accompany you, captain?"

"The simplest thing in the world. Each one has bargained for the horse which suits him. Each one has offered a price, to which the vendor replies by another. I arrive, give to each twenty-five or thirty louis.

Every one pays for his horse, has it saddled, mounts, slips into the holsters the pistols which he has in his belt, and, by a different route, arrives at a given place in the Bois de Vincennes at four o'clock. Then only I explain to them for what they are wanted. I again distribute money, put myself at the head of my squadron, and go to the work--supposing that you and I agree on the conditions."

"Well, these conditions, captain," said D'Harmental, "let us discuss them, and I think I have arranged so that you will be satisfied with what I have to offer you."

"Let us hear them," said Roquefinette, sitting down by the table.

"First, double the sum you received last time," said the chevalier.

"Ah!" said Roquefinette, "I do not care for money."

"What! you do not care for money, captain?"--"Not the least in the world."

"What do you care for, then?"

"A position."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, chevalier, that every day I am four-and-twenty hours older, and that with age comes philosophy."

"Well, captain," said D'Harmental, beginning to be seriously uneasy, "what is the ambition of your philosophy?"

"I have told you, chevalier, a position suitable to my long services--not in France, you understand. In France I have too many enemies, beginning with the lieutenant of police; but in Spain, for instance. Ah! that would suit me well. A fine country--beautiful women--plenty of doubloons! Decidedly, I should like a rank in Spain."

"The thing is possible; it depends on the rank you desire."

"Well, you know, chevalier, when one is wishing, it is as well to wish for something worth the trouble."